


Glowing

by KawaiiBoushi



Category: Persona 4
Genre: F/M, angsty drama yum yum yum, this has been cooking for? 3 or 4 years?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 12:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11402376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KawaiiBoushi/pseuds/KawaiiBoushi
Summary: A case assumed long laid to rest suddenly throws Naoto's world into chaos, threatening to take away everything she holds dear - starting with Kanji's life.





	Glowing

**Author's Note:**

> And you're tryin' to save me  
> From your past of bad decisions  
> But my decision's always gonna be  
> To follow you.

_“N-Naoto, is that you? Naoto, I – I’m sorry, I didn’t – I didn’t want – I love you. I –”_

The pained groan that followed reverberated in Naoto’s memory as she paced the length of the train over and over, willing it to go faster.

_“If you want to see Tatsumi alive again, you will do exactly as I tell you.”_

After the abrupt click, two texts arrived in the burner phone’s otherwise empty inbox: the first, GPS coordinates in Osaka – luckily, she hadn’t made it very far; it would take her two hours at most to get back to the city. The second was a warning: _You have until midnight. No cops or he dies._

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be safe without her – a fake I.D., a debit card connected to an emergency account, and a room in a small hostel tucked away in a big city were supposed to keep him hidden.

_I never should have left_ , Naoto told herself for the millionth time. _I never should have let him out of my sight._ She hadn’t factored this into her equation. Leaving Kanji behind had been for his own good, to lure Moriyama away from him and into a confrontation that she could control. How had everything gone so horribly wrong?

Part of her had always feared that things hadn’t truly ended with that case. It had been two years since she had closed it, but the body of the officer that had claimed credit for the serial killer in question’s first arrest had been found in a gruesome state in his own home only a few months later. He was the first of many victims in another murder spree, and Naoto’s involvement in bringing Moriyama in a second time was one of the most physically and mentally grueling cases of her life. As soon as it had been discovered that he had escaped again, Naoto knew she couldn’t stay in Inaba like a sitting duck. She had to disappear, find him before he found her, and put a stop to this; hopefully for good.

In hindsight, Naoto felt blindsided by her own ignorance – her own _arrogance_. To think that there would be no consequences to leaving home and eventually even Kanji under these circumstances. Assuming that she would be Moriyama’s first priority, that he would simply ignore the loved ones she had left to fend for themselves.

And now, if she failed to apprehend him tonight, she was going to pay for her mistakes with more lives than she wanted to count – starting with her own.

Finally, the train rolled into the station she needed. Naoto bolted as soon as the doors opened, only slowing down long enough to insert her ticket into the gate so that she could leave the station. According to her phone, her destination was still a bit of a drive away, so she hailed a taxi, climbing in and nearly shouting the coordinates at the driver.

“Please, hurry,” she begged, lowering her voice. The man raised his eyebrow at her in the rearview mirror but set off without a word. Naoto tried not to swear every time they rolled to a stop, fingers tapping anxiously against her armrest. Twenty-seven long minutes passed before the driver pulled over and put the car into park in front of a large, decrepit concrete building.

“Y’sure this is where you wanna go?” he asked, frowning at her. “Place has been abandoned for years. They used to manufacture somethin’ or other here, but –”

Before he could finish the thought, Naoto threw the contents of her wallet – two crumpled ten thousand yen notes – into the passenger’s side front seat, already halfway out the door. With only a sidelong glance down the street, she vaulted through a ground-level window whose pane had already lost most of its glass, bypassing the padlocked door. Almost the instant she hit the floor inside, her phone buzzed.

_Second door on the right,_ the message read. Naoto didn’t care to wonder how Moriyama knew she was here. Using her phone as a flashlight, she walked past empty boxes and dust-covered machinery, following the wall until she found the door in question. Willing her hand to stop shaking as she grasped the handle, she snapped her phone closed as she pushed forward and crossed the threshold.

Dark emptiness pressing in on her, Naoto leaned back against the wall, jumping slightly as the door fell closed with a loud slam. Any element of surprise she had hoped for was long since gone. Hand hovering over her holster, she waited, heart pounding so loudly in her ears that she swore it was what had given away her location.

After a few moments, bright overhead lights flickered on, temporarily blinding her. Blinking rapidly, Naoto squinted against the fluorescent glow, her surroundings brought into sudden clarity. The room was, for the most part, empty. Far to her right was a conveyor belt, cobwebs connecting various mechanisms that likely hadn’t run for years. Support beams sprouted from the ground every few yards along each wall, and following them to the ceiling revealed walkways far above.

“So glad you could make it,” a voice suddenly broke the silence. Naoto stiffened, looking for its source. A shape emerged from the shadows against the far wall: a tall, dark-haired man. He leaned against one of the pillars, and Naoto’s breath caught in her throat when her mind registered the second figure suspended next to Moriyama.

Kept upright only by the support beam he was bound to, Kanji was slumped forward as far as the ropes would allow. For one horrible moment, she feared the worst, until she saw his chest slowly rising and falling. He was alive, but Naoto didn’t want to imagine what he’d been through based on his condition. Hair unkempt and matted, clothes torn and dirty, skin bruised; something icy snaked inside her chest and twisted hard.

“Kanji!” she called out before she could help herself. He stirred at the sound of his name, lifting his head with what looked like tremendous effort. A strip of cloth tied around his mouth served as a gag, and one eye was black and swollen, but when he saw Naoto, he became immediately more alert, wriggling against the ropes and making loud, muffled noises.

In that moment, all her hostage training, all common sense was forgotten, and she bolted forward. “You –!” Naoto’s hand twitched towards her hip, but before she had even reached her gun, Moriyama had one of his own pressed up against Kanji’s temple.

“Ah, ah, ah!” he taunted, waggling one finger at her and smirking. Kanji’s eyes were shut tight, face screwed up in fear as Moriyama bobbed the barrel against his head. “One wrong move and I blow your precious boyfriend’s brains out.”

Left with no other choice, Naoto immediately drew to a halt, raising her hands in the air. “What do you want?”

“Take your gun,” Moriyama instructed, jerking his chin in her direction, “and set it on the ground. Nice and slow, keep your other hand where I can see it, no funny business. You try anything, and he gets it.”

Naoto nodded, slowly moving one hand down to her holster.

“Naoto, don’t do it!” Kanji’s voice, raw but loud, caught both Moriyama and Naoto’s attention. The cloth had slipped from over his mouth, allowing him to shout, “Just get outta here, don’t –!”

A wordless cry of terror escaped Naoto’s lips as Moriyama’s hand moved, convinced he was going to shoot – instead, he drew his arm back and rammed the butt of his gun into Kanji’s head, causing him to groan loudly and slump forward again. Quickly spinning the weapon back around and shoving it against his forehead, Moriyama yelled, “Quiet, you! I’m not screwing around here!”

Naoto had her own gun on the floor in an instant. “I’m unarmed! Leave him alone, I’m the one you want!”

Kanji looked up at her with slightly unfocused eyes, shaking his head and mouthing, _no_ , over and over. Naoto swallowed and forced herself to look away. Moriyama was slowly walking towards her, gun trained over her heart and a smirk on his face.

“Giving up that easily?” he asked with faux concern. “What happened to the great Detective Shirogane I know?”

“You don’t know me,” Naoto spat despite herself, insides burning with fury. She knew he was just trying to get a rise out of her, but perhaps she could use this to stall for time, to figure out a way to get both herself and Kanji out of here in one piece.

“Oh, on the contrary,” Moriyama rebutted as he drew closer, kicking Naoto’s weapon aside. “Two years in prison is a long, _long_ time to get to know someone.” He pressed the cold metal of his gun against Naoto’s throat, and she felt a chill run down her spine.

_Do not let him see you crack, Shirogane, keep it together. Keep. It. Together,_ she screamed at herself, every muscle seizing in order to keep from reacting.

“I know that you live in a little nowhere town named Inaba.” Moriyama inclined his head towards Kanji. “And I know that Kanji Tatsumi, who you’ve been toting around the country with you, is more than just a bodyguard. His mother is a lovely woman, by the way.” His smile widened as Naoto’s face drained of all color. “Don’t worry, she’s fine. She didn’t know anything; it wasn’t worth the attention it would draw. Though perhaps I’ll pay her one last visit once you’re out of the way.”

“You sick _bastard_ ,” Naoto snarled.

Moriyama only lazily waved his gun at her. “You’ve gone soft. Maybe you always were. I expected more from the great prodigy of the Shirogane family. You’re throwing away your life, and for what? You can’t save him. You can’t save yourself.” Settling on dead between her eyes, he cocked the gun with a _click_ that seemed to echo throughout the room. “This is your –”

A rushing in her ears as time ran out, Naoto seized her last chance. She swiftly brought her knee up and leaned backwards, shoving Moriyama’s arm up and away from her. The gun fired harmlessly at the wall at the same moment her knee connected between his legs with all the strength she could muster, causing him to let out a strangled cry of pain and double over.

In the moment it took Naoto to get her bearings – her gun was only a few yards away – a hand clamped hard around her left forearm. Her heart jolted – she was nowhere near a match for Moriyama in brute force, he was armed and she was defenseless, _think fast_ – and she immediately went completely limp, dead weight dropping to the ground. The man made a noise of surprise, losing his balance and his grip, and Naoto rolled over towards his legs as she hit the floor, knocking them out from under him.

Moriyama fell forward with a thud and a grunt, and Naoto climbed to her feet, bolting in the direction of her gun. Over her own heartbeat pounding in her chest, she heard Kanji yell, just as she reached the weapon, “Behind you, look out!”

In her haste to turn around, Naoto tripped over her pant leg, which had come unrolled in the skirmish. Swearing loudly, she landed on her back, knocking the wind out of her chest. A sharp crack as she fell, followed by the whiz of a bullet a few feet above her, told Naoto there was no time to lie around and catch her breath. Grabbing her gun, she rolled onto her side – concrete splintering where her head had been moments before – and shot in Moriyama’s direction, spots of darkness still dancing in her vision from her fall. A loud yell indicated she’d hit her mark, and as the world came into focus again, she saw him kneeling and grasping his right shoulder with the opposite hand.

“Don’t move!” Naoto ordered as she stood up, voice hoarse. Moriyama had lost his grip on his gun, letting it fall to the ground beside him. Seething, hatred burning in his eyes, he raised his left arm in the air, right one remaining limp. Adrenaline coursing through her veins and keeping her aim steady, Naoto slowly approached the man, one hand reaching into her coat to retrieve her handcuffs. “On your knees,” she barked, “and hands on your head. _Both_ of them.”

With a sneer, Moriyama gingerly brought his right arm up, resting both on top of his head. Sidestepping to get into position to cuff him, Naoto saw Moriyama’s feet shift and realized a split second too late what was happening – his body twisted sideways and he threw himself at her legs; she pulled the trigger, but her aim had been lost and the bullet simply ricocheted off the floor. Teetering as Moriyama latched onto her, she went down with a yelp, gun flying from her hands.

“This isn’t…over...!” he grunted between laborious gasps, grasping Naoto’s ankle with one hand while the other pulled a knife from his coat. The man’s grip was strong despite his injured shoulder, and Naoto watched as if in slow motion as the blade plunged towards her calf. Kicking wildly with her free leg, she made contact with his nose, a crunching noise prefacing a cry of pain before Moriyama dropped his weapon. Seizing the moment, Naoto scrambled to her feet once more, retrieving her gun and putting as much distance between them as possible. He made one last, futile effort to throw the knife at her, but it only clattered harmlessly to the ground.

Even as he tried in vain to stem the flow of blood from his nose, Moriyama reached for his gun – Naoto shot his hand without hesitation, not so much as blinking at his scream. She kept the sight trained on his face as she walked towards him, roughly shoving him onto his stomach with her foot. In one swift movement she had his hands cuffed behind his back, rolled him over onto it, and pinned him to the ground with her knee, pressing the barrel of her gun against his throat.

Every fiber of Naoto’s being was screaming at her to finish the job. Spilling his blood would only be a drop in the bucket compared to the lives lost and damaged because of this man.  Her finger was already on the trigger; one little squeeze was all it would take. If she removed the handcuffs afterwards, no one would question that it had been self-defense – any of the shots exchanged in their fight could have been lethal, after all, so what difference did it make if the one that was happened to be after the fact? Moriyama wouldn’t have hesitated to kill her if their positions were swapped. He wouldn’t have hesitated to kill _Kanji_ , and that thought alone was almost enough to compel her to do it right then.

But Kanji was alive – Kanji was alive, he was right there, he was watching her. Twice before, she had been forced to kill. Kanji had witnessed the second time, and had been visibly affected by it far worse than she had been. When Naoto remembered the way he had looked at her then, she rationalized that it had been them or her, life-or-death situations, she would never _choose_ to lower herself to their level. That usually quieted her doubts. But this…how would she justify this? (Truthfully, the idea that the answer might be ‘easily’ troubled her far worse than the alternative.) What would Kanji think of her, if he watched her commit murder in cold blood?

Murder. That’s what it would be. Her job was to uphold and defend the law, not take it into her own hands like some kind of vigilante. The danger had passed and no matter how much she wanted to – no matter how much he _deserved_ it – she couldn’t let herself pull the trigger. Not here, not now.

Of course, she couldn’t promise such self-restraint if they were to find themselves face-to-face a third time.

“If you _ever_ so much as _entertain_ the idea of coming near my family again,” Naoto leaned down and hissed in Moriyama’s ear, hatred dripping from every syllable, “I will hunt you down, and I will _end_ you, and they will _never_ find your body. Do you understand me?”

The man remained defiantly silent save heavy, ragged breaths, and Naoto took aim at the ground an inch from his head. His frightened shout was almost drowned out by the gunshot.

“I have two bullets left. Next time, I won’t miss.” Raising her voice, she repeated, “I said, _do you understand me?_ ”

Realizing that he was still alive, Moriyama only scoffed. “You just don’t have the balls to kill me. Stupid bitch.”

At this, a sneer twisted Naoto’s face, and she gave a dark chuckle. “Oh, no, you misunderstand,” she said. “The satisfaction of killing you would be short-lived. I would much rather know you’re rotting in jail for the rest of your life, and that I’m the _stupid bitch_ that put you there, twice. And make no mistake that it _will_ be the rest of your life, one way or another. If you step one foot out of line, I will personally ensure you don’t live to regret it.”

When he still didn’t answer, Naoto stood up, roughly pushing her knee into his chest as she did so. Letting out a noise of disgust, she stamped down hard on his injured shoulder for good measure as she turned away.

Hands beginning to shake as her adrenaline slowly faded, she carefully fished her phone from her pocket. It was all she could do to keep her voice low and steady as she requested immediate backup. Closing her eyes as she finished the call, Naoto took a long minute to breathe deeply before crossing the large open space between herself and Kanji. Her footsteps, stiff and rushed, echoed in tandem with her still-racing heart until she abruptly came to a stop in front of him, wincing at how apparent his bruising was this close.

“Kanji,” she whispered, voice cracking. She avoided meeting his eyes as she fumbled with the knots in the ropes. “I...I phoned the police. They will be arriving in about fifteen minutes, along with an am-…ambu-… _damn_ this rope!” Naoto let out a noise of frustration, casting her gaze around for something more effective than her shaking fingers. Eyes lighting on the knife from earlier, she retrieved it and held it up to Kanji’s bindings. She hesitated, cursing herself and willing her hands to remain steady.

“Hold still.”

Slowly, silently, barely daring to breathe, Naoto drew the sharp edge back and forth over the ropes binding Kanji to the pillar. His legs first, then those around his torso and chest, and finally, his wrists.

Before the last rope hit the ground, Kanji wrapped his arms around Naoto, holding her as tight as he could manage. He grasped the back of her shirt in his fists, burying his face in the crook of her neck; pained breathing echoed in her ears and caused her stomach to clench. Knees buckling, Kanji’s legs gave out and they both slowly sank to the floor. Unable to form a coherent thought, he began to sob into her collar. Naoto bit back a wave of emotion, knowing that an officer would be here soon to take their statements. For the time being, she dropped the knife, wordlessly returning his embrace.

The rest of the night passed by in a daze. As the sound of sirens grew closer, Naoto helped Kanji to his feet and they awaited the police’s arrival in silence. As they explained in as much detail as they could everything that had happened, the building began to swarm with police officers and EMTs. Naoto had to swallow a panicked protest as Kanji was taken away, having suffered cracked ribs and a possible concussion. Her own wounds were trifling, mere cuts and bruises, so she was taken to the nearest police station to fill out enough paperwork to drive her crazy.

A sympathetic officer drove her to the hospital as soon as she was able, only to be told it would be at least another hour before Kanji would be ready for visitors. After precisely one hour and sixteen minutes of pacing, a nurse finally entered the waiting room to take Naoto to where he was resting.

Arriving at his room, a sudden wave of anxiety stopped her in her tracks before the nurse shuffled her in. He said something about coming back to check up on Kanji in a little while before leaving them alone in the stark white room. Naoto remained with her back against the door, hands curling into fists.

“Hey.” Breaking the silence that Naoto felt pressing against her body, Kanji smiled at her from the bed. He was sitting upright, wearing a loose hospital gown. Though the swelling around his eye had gone down, what she could see of his chest was tinged a sickly yellow.

“Kanji.” Naoto swallowed, looking away. “How…” _How can you stand here and ask how he is, as if it isn’t clear what you put him through? How could you have miscalculated so poorly as to allow this? How could he possibly want anything to do with you now?_ She pursed her lips and said nothing.

“You just gonna stand there?” Kanji motioned to a chair next to his bed. “Here, come sit down.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Naoto complied, slowly crossing the room and lighting down on the edge of the chair. She folded her hands in her lap, determinedly staring down at them.

“Doctors said I can go home pretty soon,” Kanji started. “Just gotta fill out some forms for some painkillers or somethin’. I was lucky that clock to the head didn’t do any serious damage, but I’ll probably be takin’ it easy for a couple months ‘cause’a my ribs. Bastard roughed me up pretty good, but it coulda been a lot worse.”

Naoto felt the comment like a slap, leaning away slightly. As she’d learned during the police’s initial questioning at the warehouse, his ribs had been damaged when he fought back against, and was ultimately overpowered by, Moriyama, mere hours after she had left him behind. “It could have been…infinitely worse,” she whispered, voice cracking. “This is the reality of my work. It’s dangerous and it – it isn’t like a movie. The ‘heroes’ are no less susceptible to harm than anyone else. I apologize.”

Kanji made to shrug, winced, and waved his hand dismissively instead. “I made it out in one piece, didn’t I? Nothin’ to apologize for.”

Naoto gestured to Kanji in an all-encompassing motion. “You call this nothing?”

“It’s somethin’, sure, but you weren’t the one who –” he broke off, looking sick for a moment, before shaking his head and finishing, “who did this.”

“I may as well have been,” she murmured. “You were kidnapped, hurt, and nearly _killed_ , simply because of your association with me.

Kanji shook his head. “Naoto, come on, it ain’t your fault. I’m _alive_ ‘cause a’you. I’m a little banged up, sure, but s’nothin’ compared to what coulda happened if you hadn’t saved me.”

Suddenly, Naoto’s entire demeanor changed. She stood up, balling her fists, eyes flashing as she raised her voice. “You shouldn’t have needed to be saved! You’re only alive now because one of the most dangerous criminals in the country used your _life_ as bait instead of your _dead body!_ You wouldn’t be sitting here now if he hadn’t needed you alive to get to me, and as soon as he killed me, you would have been next!”

Kanji blinked, taken aback by the sudden outburst. “But I wasn’t! You’re alive, I’m alive, so it doesn’t matter, okay? I don’t blame you –”

“’Doesn’t matter?’” Naoto repeated. “How can you be so casual about this? Kanji, do you not understand what happened? With a ruthless, vengeful murderer less than a day’s journey behind us, I _left you_ _alone_! I thought he would follow me away from you, and I was wrong! My mistake nearly cost you your life!”

“And then your quick thinking _saved_ my –”

“Stop it! Stop talking as if I’m some sort of – _hero_!” Naoto cut him off, face contorted with anger. Only a few ragged breaths later, however, it drained from her expression, leaving behind pain and guilt. She sank back into the chair, fists tightly grasping the fabric of her pants.

“I would have left you behind in Inaba, too, if you hadn’t insisted on coming with me.” Her voice was small now, and silent tears streamed down her face. “I would have left you alone, defenseless, and I hate myself for that now. If anything like this ever happened, my plan was to disappear without telling anyone where I went, but I – I can’t believe I could be so _stupid_. To not even consider that you could be pulled into this, and hurt for the sake of manipulating me…you’re not safe with me. I’m not…you – you shouldn’t…”

“Look, all that proves is that with you is the _safest_ place I could be,” he insisted. “You were tryin’ to protect me, and you didn’t know what would happen, but now you do. Now you know I’m better off with you, no matter what.”

Naoto made a soft noise of frustration. “Kanji, this isn’t some kind of…metaphor for our relationship, this is a real life-or-death situation. Please take this seriously,” she begged. “Is this what you want for your life? To have it constantly threatened, uprooted, and thrown into chaos because of me?”

“I’ve never _been_ more serious. This ain’t the first time my life’s been in danger, and it ain’t the first time it’s happened since we been together, either. I know that, but it don’t make it your fault. I know your job can be dangerous. I know that it can be dangerous for me, too, sometimes. I don’t care. If I wanted out, I woulda left a long time ago.”

“But –”

“But nothing! What do you want me to say, Naoto? Of course I understand what happened! I ain’t stupid, I know I almost died! I was terrified, okay? But I had to trust you’d get me out of there alive, and you did! You came through! So what’s the problem?” Running a hand through his hair, Kanji let out a long breath. “I get that you’re upset with yourself, but just let me _not_ be upset, okay? Why are you tryin’ to start a fight over this?”

Naoto’s entire body trembled as she struggled to speak. Her head was starting to spin, and she curled in on herself slightly to regain some semblance of balance. “I can’t lose you,” she finally managed. “I was so scared that – that it would all end there, with you dead after I – I _abandoned_ you. Kanji, I – I’m sorry.” She couldn’t hold back any longer, beginning to sob. “I’m s-so – I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Kanji slowly reached out and laid a gentle hand on Naoto’s arm. “Hey. Look at me. C’mon.”

It took a minute for Naoto to feel steady enough to right herself and meet his gaze. Where she was terrified of seeing anger or repulsion, she found only the same gentle, patient smile he reserved just for her. However small it was at times like these, she couldn’t resist the calming effect it had, giving her some respite from the storm raging inside her mind.

“I promise, you don’t need to beat yourself up over this,” he said earnestly. “It’s over. I’m okay. You’re okay. That’s all I care about. I’d have to be certifiably insane to give up on the best thing to ever happen to me just because it’s not always smooth sailing. Do you think I would drop my entire life to disappear into the night with you, or tag along on all these dangerous cases all the time if you weren’t worth it? I love you more than anything, and I trust you with my life, without question. I know you’ll never let anything happen to me if you got a say in it. I’m never gonna give up on us, I’m never gonna leave you. So between the two of us, we’re gonna be all right, yeah?”

Something in his expression changed, becoming resolute. “Like I said, I – I’m never leaving. I wanna be with you the rest of my life, Naoto. Hell, I’ve wanted that for years now. So I wanna…i-it’s about time I…” He took a deep breath before blurting, “Will you marry me?”

Naoto blinked once – twice – her eyes slowly widened, and she stammered, “I – y-you – wh – did – did you just – _what?_ ”

“I…shit, I kinda wasn’t planning on that just yet,” Kanji started with a self-conscious chuckle. “I wanted it to be more romantic than a hospital room, but…look, for better or for worse, that’s what marriage is, right? In sickness and health, and all that. If I wrote my own vows, they’d prob’ly go somethin’ like, ‘even when we’re on the run or my ass is on the line.’” He frowned. “You prob’ly can’t say ‘ass’ at a wedding, even if it is your own. W-wedding, I mean, not my – uh – y-you get the point.” Blushing, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Dammit, now I’m all discombobulated – um – a-anyway, I know ya ain’t all about ceremonies and makin’ a big fuss over things. We could just sign some papers and get it over with if ya want – but I’m gettin’ off track again. Point is, I don’t want there to be even a tiny bit of doubt in your mind about how I feel. Nothing’s ever gonna scare me away from bein’ with you.”

Naoto still felt speechless, staring at him with a look of mild shock, and Kanji hurried to fill the silence. “Look, it – it ain’t an ultimatum or whatever, okay? You don’t have to say anything right now, and even if you don’t want to…it still doesn’t change anything. But…s-so….why not, right? I’ve always wanted to get married someday, and…I’ve known you were the one for a long time. So…think about it, at least.”

He bit back any further pleas, allowing her time to process the question and regain her voice. A minute or two passed, the gears in Naoto’s mind suddenly lurching from a dead stop to working double time, before she finally asked, “Why didn’t you call me?”

Confused, he furrowed his brow. “Huh?”

“You still had your phone. This confrontation only happened when it did because _I_ called _you_. Had my resolve not cracked, had I been able to convince myself you were fine, how long would you have just…” She shuddered. “I’ve seen what this man does to people, Kanji. You’re _lucky_ compared to his average victim. If you had remained silent for much longer…I don’t want to think about what would have happened. Why didn’t you even _try_ to contact me, if you really have so much faith in me?”

Kanji sighed. “It’s not that I didn’t trust you, just…like I said, I was scared shitless. I wanted you to get me the hell outta there, believe me. But I didn’t know what this guy would do to you, and I just…I couldn’t put you at risk too, givin’ you up like that. When you called me, and then when you showed up just like he wanted…part a’me was relieved, but mostly I was terrified that now you were gonna end up dead too. Prob’ly shoulda put my money where my mouth is instead’a yellin’ at you to ditch me though, huh?”

“I’m sorry,” Naoto immediately apologized, shaking her head rapidly. “That was – that was unfair of me. To expect you, in the state you were in, to be strategizing to defuse a hostage situation, and to chastise you for not wanting to betray me to someone who was out to kill me. Rather, I…I should thank you for your strength of will in the face of…such…” Voice fading, she looked down, blinking rapidly against more tears as her mind wandered to autopsy reports she could never forget.

“Hey.” With a gentle nudge, Kanji tipped her chin back to look her in the eye. “Maybe I _shoulda_ taken the risk. Turned out alright, after all. We both woulda done somethin’ different if we could change things. But what’s important right now is that we’re alive and we’re together and we’ll learn from this and be stronger for it.”

Sniffling, Naoto wiped at her eyes. “I suppose I can’t pretend any longer that you’re not involved with…even the parts of my life I wish I could spare you from. I shouldn’t always assume that I know best and cut you out of decisions that you have a right to participate in. Teamwork and communication are, after all, two of the most important aspects of…” She paused to breathe in deeply and let it out slowly. “Of a healthy marriage.”

These words dawned on Kanji slowly, eyes lighting up as a grin slowly split his face. “You – you mean –?”

“I can’t imagine my life without you, Kanji. I don’t want to. You’ve seen my every flaw, weakness, and insecurity; and yet you’re still here. Your response to being kidnapped and hospitalized was to _propose_ to me.” A soft laugh of disbelief escaped her lips, followed by a hiccup. “I love you. So if this is really, truly what you want, then I…of course I would be more than happy to marry you.”

Naoto swore she had never seen Kanji happier, and she found that his smile was contagious. Marriage had never been particularly high on her priority list, but the sentiment behind the ritual, the promise of lifetime commitment and intimacy, she had to admit was appealing. As the weight of Kanji’s proposal sunk in – _wanted, loved, never alone_ – she felt a warmth in her chest, dispelling much of the anxiety that had been building there all night. It was still difficult, even after being together for years, to fully allow herself to believe that someone could love her as completely and unconditionally as Kanji did. And yet, every time she found herself dreading the loneliness she had come to accept as inevitable, he always seemed to find a way to subvert her expectations tenfold.

“I love you, Kanji,” Naoto said again, clutching his hand tightly in both of hers. More tears traced new paths down her cheeks, this time out of pure joy. Leaning forward, she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. As he returned it, she became painfully aware of the slight hitch in his breath. A twinge of guilt caused her to pull away, and instead, she leaned her forehead against his, brushing her hand softly against his cheek as they smiled at each other.

After only a few moments, however, a quiet knock at the door preceded its opening.

“Tatsumi-san, Shirogane-san, I – oh! Excuse me.”

Naoto immediately jumped backwards, knocking the chair behind her sideways and nearly falling over along with it. Her face was beet red as the nurse from earlier hovered halfway inside the room, a clipboard in one hand and a small white bag in the other. “Ah, y-yes,” she stammered, hands instinctively attempting to pull the brim of a hat down low, “p-please come in. You – um – an-antibiotics?” Shooting Kanji a quick glance, she only grew more flustered, if possible, to see him watching her with that big, endearing grin.

“Yes, ma’am.” The nurse cleared his throat, failing to completely hide his amusement. “Antibiotics and painkillers.” He crossed the room as Naoto straightened out her chair and sat down next to Kanji, still pink but allowing him to take her hand nonetheless. “Tatsumi-san, you’ll probably experience pain and tenderness in your chest as your ribs heal, but it is important that you’re able to breathe deeply.”

Naoto listened carefully as the nurse detailed care and medication instructions for Kanji. Despite his assurances that he didn’t blame her for his injuries, being able to help take care of him would feel like a step in making amends. Barring any complications, it would be no longer than two months before he was fully healed. This, Naoto decided, was more than an ample break from work. Having come so close to losing the person she held most dear, she needed a lull in the stress, a chance to fully appreciate what she had while they both recovered mentally and physically.

Though, perhaps even if he hadn’t needed an excessive amount of time to recover, Kanji might have been able to persuade Naoto to spend a little more time at home in the coming months. They did have a wedding to plan, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> A HUGE shoutout to my dear friend Kite for showing me the song this was inspired from and helping develop this idea. So many fics have been born from our sometimes-happy-sometimes-sad Kannao discussions. I finally started writing this specific one a couple years ago, and have been fine-tuning it on and off while working on other projects. I hope it was worth the wait!


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